"Hello?"

The sensei's son didn't bother to look up. "One, you shouldn't be in here, and two, what do you want," he said, gaze still focused on the computer screen in front of him. He spoke as though Hunter's presence was an inconvenience not worth his time.

Hunter grimaced at the back of his head, the words bitter on his tongue. He forced himself to say it whether the geek made it easy for him or not. "I came to apologize."

The figure in front of the computer snorted. "Sure," he told the screen, fingers dancing over the keyboard. "I'm happy to be just another stepping stone on your path to redemption."

Hunter gaped at him in disbelief. How had he known? Had he been expecting one of the Thunders to come crawling in to ask forgiveness? Maybe he was holding out for both of them? Where did the righteous creep get off, throwing the effort back in his face!

"If there's nothing else I can do for you... actually, even if there is," the other added, his back still turned. "The door can help you more than I will."

"What's your problem?" Hunter demanded, finally finding his voice. "I'm trying to apologize here, and you're throwing me out?"

The figure at the computer froze, lifting his head as if to stare straight through the screen. "What's my problem?" he repeated, as though he didn't think he'd heard correctly. "My problem is the manipulative, egocentric, ruthless exploitation of the Rangers and myself! What, is that not enough for you?"

"Hey, in case you haven't heard," Hunter snapped. "We're all on the same side now! Yeah, Blake and I made some mistakes. But we were used too, and we can't make up for what we did unless you give us a chance!"

What was he saying! Since when did he need anything from this self-centered little twit? His own brother had forgiven him a murderous rampage, and the Winds were actively trying to recruit them. A little hostage-taking in the name of misguided revenge didn't seem like such a big thing, relatively speaking.

The chair turned, slowly, and its occupant deigned to regard him for the first time. Hunter's spine stiffened, forcing him to straighten under that dark gaze. Critical or contemptuous, he couldn't tell and ultimately it didn't matter. He obviously wasn't welcome here.

Unfortunately, to turn away would be to admit defeat. He wasn't about to back down from a stare like that. One of them had to blink first, and it wasn't going to be him. He glared back at a non-Ranger, not even a ninja student as far as he could tell, and found himself as angry and defensive as he had been before Lothor himself.

"Look, today was the day from hell," Hunter blurted out. "I was betrayed, brainwashed, brainwashed again and beaten into the ground by everyone on both sides. Like it could get any worse, right? But it has, and I really don't need your attitude on top of it all!"

A single eyebrow rose. "My life hasn't exactly been a vacation lately, either," the other informed him. "The difference for me is that most of what's gone wrong has been directly attributable to you or your brother. So you'll forgive me if I don't jump up to welcome you with open arms."

"Did I mention the brainwashing?" Hunter demanded. "Oh--yeah! I'm pretty sure I did! I spent the whole day covered with green slime and trying to kill my brother! You'll have to forgive me if your problems don't sound so bad!"

He'd obviously hit a nerve. Those dark eyes narrowed and the sensei's son hissed, "You don't know anything about my problems. You'd better go looking for sympathy somewhere else, because you won't find it here."

"I don't want your sympathy," Hunter snarled. What was it about this jerk? He couldn't, he wouldn't give up, even when every rational thought he had was telling him to walk away. "I just want you to know, I'm sorry for what I did!"

"I bet you are." The expression twisted, and he found himself on the receiving end of a cynical glare. "I'd be sorry too, if I were you."

What was that supposed to mean? He stared at the dark-haired computer op, wondering what to make of the words. The antagonism spoke for itself. But it didn't sound like the wry voice that had mocked the Winds from afar earlier today, and it certainly wasn't the calm, self-possessed hostage that had almost overpowered the collective strength of the Thunder Rangers not once, but twice.

A small frown was the first sign of doubt he'd seen, maybe prompted by his own hesitation. Whatever caused it, Hunter seized it instinctively and pressed for any advantage it might give him. "Then you do understand," he insisted, searching those dark eyes for any hint of agreement. "We did what we thought we had to. It wasn't personal."

The other folded his arms, frown deepening. "It was to me," he informed Hunter levelly. "You can't use my friends, subdue me, kidnap my father, and then try to destroy all of us--repeatedly--and expect me not to take it personally."

"You're gonna hold a grudge for all of them?" Hunter demanded. "Even if they've let it go?"

"My grudges are my own," the other snapped. "Just like your forgiveness should be. You can't find it in someone else."

Taken aback, Hunter reverted to sarcasm automatically. "What are you, a sensei in training?"

The sensei's son just looked at him, and Hunter cleared his throat. "Yeah, well," he muttered. After a moment he added, "That's deep and all, but not really what I was looking for."

To his further surprise, the other responded to his quiet tone with a sigh. "Will it make you feel better if I accept your apology?" he wanted to know. His fingers were white where he was clenching his arms, Hunter realized with a start.

Lifting his gaze to search an expression that could have been carved in stone when he first arrived, he found a human-ness that hadn't been there before. "Maybe," he said slowly. Then, with an irrepressible smirk he suggested, "Try me."

That didn't seem to amuse his conversation partner, who ground out, "Fine. I accept your apology," with obvious reluctance. "Are you leaving now?" he added.

Hunter considered that. He should leave. He should have left a long time ago. But there was something about the petulant demand that triggered exactly the opposite response in him. It wasn't the instinct to confront and conquer, it was... something different. Something provoked by the person in front of him, but elusive enough that he couldn't pin it down more than that.

"No," he replied, watching the reaction carefully. Irritation flickered across the face, and this time the sigh was more exaggerated. "I was thinking--maybe we could start over."

He was? Since when? He hadn't wanted to come here in the first place, and now he was trying to start a conversation? What kind of game was his subconscious playing, anyway?

"It figures," the other muttered, gaze skittering away across the floor. "No matter what you give them, it's never enough. You Rangers are all alike. I can't wait to see how much equipment five people can trash in an afternoon."

Hunter frowned, trying to comprehend the careless tone. He and Blake hadn't actually agreed to work with the Winds yet, but that wasn't really the point, was it? The point was that--

This was the voice from Shane's morpher. Just like that, understanding dawned, and he fought to keep a smirk from twisting his lips. He was being treated like a Wind Ranger. Why did that suddenly seem like such a good thing? He was being mocked, and he was happy about it? He was going to need therapy after today.

"Not as much as you can fix, I bet." The words were out before he knew what he was going to say, and he wondered if they'd really sounded as complimentary as he thought they did. Yeah... therapy. Definitely therapy.

"That's the hope, isn't it." It took him a moment to realize that the remark was in response to his words, not his thoughts. The other leaned back in his chair a little, neutrality firmly in place as he continued, "The one thing that keeps this place running is the belief that I can create faster than three super-powered ninjas can destroy."

"That sounds almost like a challenge." Hunter watched his reaction carefully, trying to read something into that deadpan expression and inscrutable gaze. "I can destroy an awful lot."

"I don't doubt it," came the dry response. "Believe me, that's just what I need: someone who's proud of their demolition ability and eager to show it off at the first possible opportunity."

"Come on," Hunter argued, still watching for... something. He'd know it when he saw it, whatever it was. "No destruction, no challenge, right?"

"I have plenty of challenges." Dark eyes snapped at him, reminding him of just how volatile the voice from the morphers could be. "I don't need Rangers smashing sophisticated technology at their leisure just to keep me occupied."

His stomach lurched alarmingly as he realized what they were doing--what he was doing, without even thinking about it. He was flirting. Shit. This was not good. Just like that, oblivious as could be, here he was flirting with the guy who ran the Wind Rangers' tech support.

And unless he was badly mistaken, the tech support guy was flirting back.

No. That was ridiculous. He was just... making an effort? Trying to extend a friendly welcome to the guy he'd been chewing out not two minutes before? Hunter didn't know whether that was more or less likely than the alternative.

"Let's try this again," he said bluntly, holding out his hand on impulse. "I'm Hunter, Crimson Thunder Ranger. Nice to meet you."

Eyes narrowed, the other considered his extended hand before glancing up at him warily. It seemed like forever, but he finally unfolded himself from his chair and took a single step in Hunter's direction. Clasping Hunter's hand, he offered dryly, "I'm Cam. I make things work."